


to judge a book

by winter_angst



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Relationships, Broken english, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Impressions, Fluff and Mush, Gen, M/M, foreign exchange students, if I’m to be gratuitous, meet ugly, super low calorie angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst
Summary: Jack Rollins loathed Brock Rumlow when they first met.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	to judge a book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalika999 (kalika_999)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts), [xCrossbonesx (StarSpangledBucky)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/gifts).



> Okay well x-crossbones-x wanted some soft hh and I thought hey, it’s the time of year to give (and I also had this sitting around collecting dust lol). 
> 
> Please enjoy fluffiest fic I’ve ever drabbled!

Jack Rollins absolutely, one hundred percent cannot stand Brock Rumlow.

They’ve only known each other for just under two months and only share one class on campus but Jack loathes him. The guy was an exchange student and could hardly even speak English so how he kept up with the class itself never failed to confuse Jack. In fact the only complete sentence Jack had ever heard the olive toned guy utter was, “I like the sunshine.” 

He had an airhead look to him, maybe a bit too twinkish in the way he smiled at him, leering almost, Jack decided. 

Of course Jack’s issue with Brock wasn’t his ridiculously tight pants or his broken English. He couldn’t have cared less about those things. The class didn’t have assigned seats but Jack was a creature of habit. He sat at the fourth desk down in third column. The seat to his left was always taken by the sullen redhead Jack knew was Natalia something, and to his was, you guessed it, Brock Rumlow. 

And for whatever reason, he couldn’t keep his shit on his own desk.

It was like clockwork — Jack walks in, just after the big crowd but before the professor arrived, Brock looks at him and springs from his desk in those super tight European jeans, hastily collecting the pile of shit left there. 

“Hello Jack, you here.” Brock said the same thing every single time, breathy as if shocked Jack had shown up despite him never missing a single class. “I move, I move.”

His pile of books, his bag, his breakfast, and a water bottle were all snatched and migrated back to where the belonged: at his goddamn desk. But Jack wasn’t the type to cause issues and when Brock held out his fist, he bumped his against it for the sake of getting it over with. 

Every. Single. Class. 

Jack complained liberally about to his roommate who never stopped sucking face with the blond quarterback Rogers to properly care, and to the stoner kid he worked with in the kitchens for his work study but he always wanted to know what the ‘hot piece Natalia’ was wearing. 

So it was just how things went for them. Brock always beat him, always stacked his shit in his space, made a big deal out of his arrival, greeted him and asked for a fist bump. Maybe it was a social thing — whatever European country Brock hailed from clearly didn’t share the value of personal space.

Then, one day, Jack was late. Honestly his whole day was fucked from drinking far too much the night before and he was jogging along with the late crowd of semi-functional students — like Clint the stoner he worked with that he saw sprinting in the opposite direction. Jack was feeling especially sour when he finally arrived — only to be forced to hang back as his phone started to ring. 

He was declining the call when he caught a fellow late guy approaching his seat piled with Brock’s shit as usual, because the only other open seat was in the very front. 

“No, no,” Brock held his hand out to the guy who had gone to sit. Jack paused in confusion in the doorway. “Friend Jack’s seat.”

Jack was stunned a moment but the throat clear of the Professor had him apologizing as he hurried toward his apparently saved seat. Brock’s eyes lit up as they always did but Jack noticed they were honey hazel for the first time since the beginning of the semester. 

“Hello Jack, you here.” That megawatt smile that was maybe less strange than it was nice. “I move, I move.”

Brock collected his items and held out his fist expectantly. Jack bumped it, feeling like a US GRADE A Asshole. Maybe Brock didn’t misunderstand social norms, maybe he was just being a decent human being. And Jack had been ignoring his kindness — his friendship — all semester. 

Jack had difficulty focusing and when the class was over, he didn’t leg it out to go complain to his roommate. He turned to Brock and said, “You want to get lunch with me?”

Brock seemed surprised but more than that, he looked happy bobbing his head. “Lunch good.” 

It was a long meal and Jack made a point to pay for his meal pass as well. Despite the language barrier Jack learned that Brock was from a small town in Italy, here to get an education at his ailing Nonna’s insistence. Brock was actually pretty funny and even with the slight disconnect language wise Jack appreciated his razor sharp wit. 

They ended the meal with a fist bump and Jack actually felt in high spirits as he continued on with his day. He certainly didn’t loathe Brock Rumlow anymore and he also, just maybe, might have developed a crush.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Судить книгу](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160168) by [Ezra_Barnett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezra_Barnett/pseuds/Ezra_Barnett)




End file.
